


baby, you're my only reason

by zouisclimax



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Louis, Drunk Louis, Famous Harry, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Smut, Top Harry, drunk tweeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouisclimax/pseuds/zouisclimax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's famous and Louis' a big fan. </p>
<p>or, "you're a celebrity and you just broke up and i tweeted you a selfie and said "date me" and you thought i was serious?" au</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, you're my only reason

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so I started this a while ago but forgot about it until now, so I decided to just finish it before I started anything else. i got this idea from a prompt on tumblr, but i can't find the post, so i can't credit, but thank you random person for the idea!
> 
> Thank you to Lizzie for editing, ur my fave. 
> 
> ALSO. On July 28th I saw One Direction in the second fucking row and LOUIS FUCKING TOMLINSON POUNDED HIS CHEST AND POINTED AT ME (i was holding a Louis sign with a heart). I freaked out, fell over into Lizzie, and cried. Niall laughed at me. I have video/picture evidence of both events. 
> 
> ALSO EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF THEM FOR DROPPING DRAG ME DOWN ON US LIKE THIS?!?!? (title comes from it bc i thought it fit also i had no other ideas)
> 
> okay, now, enjoy!

Louis wakes to Shaggy claiming it wasn’t him in his ear.

He groans and rolls over, pointedly ignoring Shaggy, choosing to burrow further into his pillow instead. It’s a nice pillow, not the best, it could be fluffier, it could definitely smell better, but it’s his best friend right now. He doesn’t want to part from it.

He sighs happily when Shaggy shuts up. He thinks that maybe he’ll be able to fall right back asleep, but then he starts up again and he screams, shoving his arm out and groping for his phone.

“Someone better be fucking dead.” Louis grumbles.

Niall cackles in his ear. “Nah, no one is dead. But, you could be, like, if you don’t get to work in like, 10 minutes.”

“What?!” Louis sits up and scrambles out of bed. Fuck, he is going to shit himself. He can’t be late again, absolutely can’t. If he is, Craig will have his arse on a stick. Louis can’t remember if he said he’d fire him or dock his pay, but either one is quite shit and Louis would like to avoid both if possible.

“Fuck, fuck. Okay, so, fuck. I need to shower! Oh my god, Niall! I’m so gross, fuck, fuck, uh, I can make it in 15! Can you cover for me-”

Louis cuts himself off because Niall’s still bloody cackling. He turns to his desk, feeling himself scowl and his grip on his phone tightening as his eyes fall on his Nicki Minaj calendar.

“Fuck you, Niall.”

It’s Friday. Louis never works Friday mornings, only evenings. “You’re a fucking twat. I actually hate you.”

Niall does nothing back cackle and Louis flips him off through the phone as he climbs back into bed.

“I’m hanging up because you’re shit.”

“No, no! Louis, please! No! I’m sorry, it’s just. We are so fucking slow, mate. The morning rush is gone and I want to kill me self. No one has entered this place in like, 20 minutes.”

“Oh, god. What horror.”

“I’m bored!” Niall whines.

“If you are bored at work you make really gross drinks or bother Liam, you don’t call me and wake me up the only day I get to sleep in!” 

“You get to sleep in Mondays and Tuesdays, too, you fuck.”

“Whatever!” Louis huffs. “Please, just, go through with killing yourself. I won’t miss you. I’ll throw a party. Dance on your grave and shit.”

“Shut your mouth, you cunt, you’d never.”

“You don’t know me.”

Louis can practically hear Niall roll his eyes. “There’s actually a real reason why I called you over Liam.”   
  
“It better be because you won a million dollars and you want to give it all to me.”  He shifts on the bed to get more comfortable, lifting his covers to try to find his laptop. Where did he put it? Is it on the floor or was it next to him when he fell asleep?

“Close.” Niall laughs. “But, probably better in your book.”  
  
“Harry Styles’ nudes finally leaked?”

Ah, ha. Under the pillow next to him. He places the computer on his lap and opens it, typing his embarrassing password that Niall made. He knows he could change it, but, Louis kind of likes the ring of MisterLouisStyles.

Oh god. He’s a 14 year old.

“Ugh, if only. But, it is related to him.” 

“Well, what is it?” Louis asks. He feels instantly more awake at the mention of Harry Styles. God, what a delicious fucking human. He’s pretty bummed it’s not nudes, though. God, he would kill to see that dick. He bets it’s beautiful.

“He and his boyfriend broke up.” 

Louis chokes on nothing.

“Tell me you are kidding.”

His hands shake as he opens Chrome, opening tumblr in one tab and his favorite celebrity gossip site in another.

“Mate, I’m not! They broke up, they actually broke up. It’s not just a rumor anymore.”

Louis is going to go into cardiac arrest. He squeals when he finds the article on the gossip site first. He hears Niall laugh louder, but he ignores it, choosing to focus on the article instead. There are so many words, too many words for Louis to care about right now, so he scrolls to the bottom of the post, glad that whoever posted it bolded the most important part: that at 8:15 this morning Harry responded to a tweet saying ‘Yes, Eric and I broke up about two weeks ago, all is well tho x’.

Two weeks ago.

Louis was right.

Two weeks ago, Harry’s tweets, which are usually cryptic and weird and down right dumb, started to get a little sad, too. The lyrics he tweeted were especially melancholy and he hadn’t smiled in pap pics recently.

“I’m a fucking genius, I knew it.”

“I know.” Niall laughs. Louis smiles and closes the article, switching to tumblr instead.

“Am I an awful person for being so happy? Like, I shouldn’t feel happy that their relationship just ended. They are probably hurt and like sad. I’m the worst.” He reblogs a close up of Harry’s crotch, tagging it with ‘:( :( i wanna suuuck hissss diiiiiiiick’.

“You aren’t the worst. You’re in love with him, of course you are gonna be happy. It means you have a chance now.”

Louis snorts. “Yeah, sure. I have a chance with Harry Styles, the biggest fucking popstar on the planet.”

“Of course you do.” Niall says like it’s nothing.

“Yeah, where am I going to meet him? The shop?”

“Sure, he likes coffee. I’ve seen him drink it. He could totally stumble in here.”

“Right, Harry Styles will obviously one day be walking around campus and stumble into our coffee shop, see me, and fall in love with me.”

“Crazier things have happened.” 

“Yeah, like you getting laid.”   
  
“Oi!”

It’s Louis turn to laugh now as Niall mumbles under his breath, calls him a twat, but then tells him he loves him before he hangs up.

He drops his phone beside him and settles back into the pillows. He doesn’t have any homework (yes, he does) and he doesn’t have to work until 4 (or was it 3?), so there’s no reason why he can’t stay in bed on tumblr for the rest of the morning.

\--

Turns out, he does actually have to work at 3, so he rolls out of bed around 2:30, takes a quick shower, and is at the shop only a minute after 3, which is pretty fantastic for him. He thinks even his dickhead boss will be proud.

It’s all fine and dandy until Louis clocks in and sees that he is working with Mr. Dickhead and that scrawny, snotnosed first year that he can’t stand.

Basically, his shift is going to be shit and obviously it’s all Niall’s fault. He texts Niall so and then demands that he come over with loads of booze after Louis’ closes and they get spectacularly drunk in celebration of Harry Styles being single.

Niall agrees in a heartbeat, so Louis guesses he isn’t that big of a twat after all.

\--

Drunk.

Louis is drunk. Like, super, super, proper smashed.

It feels good. He feels so good right now. Like, invincible. Like, he could climb walls or some shit.

Niall dares him to try to scale the building and climb to the roof when he says so and he’s half out the window, but then Liam gets home from his girlfriend’s and ruins the whole thing, pulling Louis back inside.

He locks the window and the door to their “balcony” (slab of concrete really is the proper term) and shoves them both to the couch, dropping bottles of water in their laps.

“Ugh, Li, you’re so lame.” Louis whines.

“I’m lame because I’m saving your life, yes, sure. You’re not Spider Man, Lou.” Liam rolls his eyes and heads to his room.

Niall pouts at his retreating figure before turning back to Louis. “Can I dare you to do something else then? Since Payno ruined it.”

“Yeah.” Louis shrugs, throwing the water bottle and picking up the handle of vodka instead. Ha, Liam! Ha! “I am Spider Man.” He mumbles under his breath.

“I dare you to tweet Harry.”

“I do that all the time.” Louis scoffs. Seriously. Every time he’s drunk he tweets at Harry at least five times, most of them being in all caps and relating to sucking dick. He stopped being embarrassed about it a while ago. It happens. Whatever. He is who he is.

“Okay, then I dare you to tweet him a selfie. Oh! And like, caption it with ‘date me’.”

“Okay.” Louis shrugs. He never turns down a dare. Plus, this one is easy. Easy peasy. And it doesn’t even involve anything dangerous or illegal, so Liam won’t even be mad at him. Plus, he won’t get arrested, so his mum won’t be mad.

He grabs his phone, opening up the camera app and taking the picture. It’s simple, just him sticking his tongue out (classic Louis) and throwing up the westside sign (again, classic Louis). He, well, he looks drunk, but he looks good at least. His hair is doing that fluffy, soft thing Niall says really works for him and his eyes look really fucking blue. Which, a lot of people like. Many people think blue is pretty. Many boys have told him he has pretty eyes. He hopes Harry thinks they are blue. Wait, he means pretty.

Fuck. He’s so drunk.

He shakes his head and Niall moves beside him, hooking his chin over Louis’ shoulder and watching as he opens twitter and a new tweet.

He attaches the picture, typing out ‘@Harry_Styles, hey curly don’t be sad ur relationship is over, be happy ! u can date me now !!!!! YAYA’. He adds the emoji sticking out it’s tongue and the actual tongue, followed by the water droplets because he’s a cheeky shit.

“Okay?”

“Perfect.” Niall laughs, stealing the vodka from him as Louis hits tweet.

“All right.” He says, stealing the vodka back and tossing his phone down. “Let’s go annoy Liam.”

\--

Louis wakes up in Liam’s bed with Niall drooling on his shoulder.

Liam’s up already, rummaging around in the closet in only his pants.

“We didn’t have some weird threesome last night, did we? I don’t think Sophia would be too happy.” Louis croaks out, rolling away from Niall. The boy whines in his sleep, but doesn’t wake.

Liam huffs out a weak laugh as he slides on a pair of basketball shorts. “Nah, but you did kiss me and give Niall a hickey on his thigh.” 

  
“So, all and all, a normal night.” Louis deems, watching as Liam pulls on a shirt. “Ew, are you going running?”

Liam nods and leaves his room, probably for water and shoes and then to leave. Ugh. He’s so gross. Being all healthy in shit. Louis is disgusted. He flops back on Liam’s bed and searches for his phone. He frowns because he can’t find it and he’s going to be so pissed if Niall did something to it, like made it into a peanut butter sandwich. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He punches Niall for good measure and slides out of Liam’s bed.

He doesn’t bother checking his room, seeing as he can’t remember being in there at all, heading to the sitting room instead. He’s immensely happy when he sees it sitting on the coffee table in seemingly good condition. Maybe he’ll apologize to Niall for that punch. Eh. Unlikely.

Everything’s fine when he firsts looks at the screen. He sees the normal text from his mum, one from Lottie, a few notifications that people reblogged his posts, it’s when he scrolls down that everything gets fucking real. He has about a million Twitter notifications of people retweeting and favoriting his tweet.

Louis’ confused for a minute, because he doesn’t recall tweeting and he knows he has nowhere near the number of followers to amass this many retweets.

“Oh god.” He whispers to himself.

He opens the app immediately and he fucking dies when he sees the tweet. God. Louis tweeted a fucking drunk selfie at Harry Styles. God, he’s so embarrassing.

But, Louis still doesn’t fully understand. He’s tweeted at Harry before, but he’s never had so many retweets or favorites. So, what’s different this time?

“The fuck.” He mutters to himself, scrolling down further in the notifications. It doesn’t make any sense, none at all. But then-

“Oh my fucking god!” Louis can’t help but shout, dropping his phone and stepping away from it like it’s fucking poison. Because, no, what? No. That can’t be real. This can’t be real. What the fuck.

  
“What’s going on!? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Niall screams, running out. His hair is a mess and he still has his morning wood. Normally, Louis would laugh and poke fun, even slap him in the dick, but no. Not this morning. He just screams and points at his phone.

Niall looks bewildered and flustered, but he runs at it, picking it up. “Holy fuck, Lou.”

“Holy fuck is right!” Louis breathes. “He retweeted it! He fucking saw it! Harry retweeted my fucking tweet!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, it’s just a retweet!”

“Just a- Niall!” Louis shouts. He has every reason to be freaking out right now. Harry fucking Styles retweeted him. Harry not only saw words that Louis wrote, he saw a fucking picture of Louis.

“Harry fucking Styles!” He shouts.

Niall looks back down at the phone, his brow furrowing.

“What? What’s wrong? Why are you looking like that? Why is your face doing that thing?”

“Okay, so like, I don’t want you to freak out even more, but…”

“But what, Niall! But what!”

“Harry followed you and you have a new message.”

Louis doesn’t respond, just runs to the loo, slams the door, climbs into the shower, and screams.

\--

He comes out a moment later, walking coolly over to Niall and taking his phone from him.

“You didn’t read it, did you?”

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I can’t wait to tell Liam you ran. That was fucking amazing, mate. I wish I had a picture.”

“I’ll end you.” Louis mumbles, shoving Niall hard before taking a breath and sitting down on the couch. Okay, Louis can do this. He can click on that DM. He can. Oh, fuck can he. God, he’s the best at clicking things.

“Nialllll.” He whines.

“Louis, come on!”

He whines again, squeezing his eyes tight before forcing himself to open then and click on Harry’s message.

_Hii. I wanted to say I loved your tweet. It was very sweet. I’ve been feeling quite shit lately & you made me feel 100x better. All the love, H_

“All the love.” Louis chokes. “He said all the love at me.”

“I feel like I need to call 999, you know, just in case.”

“Fuck off, Niall! What the fuck do I say back to him!?”

“‘All the love? Does this mean I can suck your dick?’”

“Neil.” Louis sighs.

Niall cackles and Louis shoves him away again. He bites his lip as he stares at his phone. Obviously, he needs to reply, he just doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know what to say or how to say it.

This is the most stressful thing of Louis’ life, hands down.

**Oh, wow. Well, thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed. I was quite drunk when I sent that. I’m slightly embarrassed, but I’m glad it made you smile. x**

Louis sends it, handing it to Niall before flopping face forward onto the couch. He screams into the pillow.

“Now what?” He mumbles against the fabric.

“I don’t know. Good thing is, at least Harry is in London, so it’s not like you have to worry about time differences.”

“Is that a good thing, Neil!? Is it!”

“I just… I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t really understand you right now, Louis.”

Louis just screams again in response.

\--

He’s on edge for the rest of the day. He puts his phone on loud and keeps it in his hand, ignoring the looks Liam and Niall both give him.

He doesn’t. Okay, he just. He can’t be held responsible for his actions right now. He doesn’t care if he looks dumb or desperate or lame or whatever. He just is feeling a lot of things. Stress, worry, panic, dread, fear, hope. Everything. It’s all bundle up inside his chest, thumping around erratically. He feels like he could burst any minute.

He doesn’t get a response by the time he heads to bed and he can’t help but be depressed about it. Maybe this is all that was going to happen. Maybe Harry was just being polite. Fuck, he probably just was being polite. Louis was stupid to think he would even respond again.

He’s wallowing in his own self pity, trying his best to smile at the episode of Bob’s Burgers playing on his laptop, when his phone finally chirps.

He’ll never admit it, but he almost fell out of bed as he scrambled for his phone.

He nearly pops a blood vessel when he sees it’s a response from Harry, but he forces himself to wait 5 minutes because he doesn’t want to come off as a desperate wanker.

_No need to be embarrassed! I loved it! Now that I look closer, I can see some signs of drunkenness. You tweet at boys often when you’re drunk?_

Louis bites at his lip, hoping the pain will help distract him from the fluttering in his heart. He has no reason to be this excited. He is being so dumb.

**Nah, haha. Not just any boy, hah, usually just yo** u… He adds an embarrassed face emoji and sends it because he’s a fucking man and he has balls and he can do this.

Harry responds almost immediately and Louis basically busts a nut.

_Me?! You mean this isn’t the first time you’ve drunk tweeted at me? I’m flattered!_

**Yeah, haha, I’ve done it a few times mate ! this is the first time I attached a selfie though and it’s just cuz my mate dared me !**

_Well, I’m glad I noticed this tweet then! You’ve a lovely face. Quite cute. But, if it was a dare, was the asking me to date you a dare, too?_

Louis almost screams at Liam, but then he remembers he has to open tomorrow. He settles for taking a screenshot and sending it to both Niall and Liam immediately, accompanied with ‘HARYR FUCKING STYLES JUST CALLED ME CUTE AND lOVEILY !?? IM LIGHTING MYSELF ON FIReE !!!’.

**Yeah, that was a dare, too, but… I mean, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t really want that. Like, fuck. Obviously I would, you’re fucking gorgeous.**

Louis punches his bed as he hits send. Fuck, was that okay? Did that make sense? God, Louis doesn’t know what’s happening or what’s going on or if any of this is even real.

_You’re gorgeous, too. And, good. I’m glad you want that, because, well. I’m not opposed to it._

Louis sits up. Not opposed to it? Not opposed to what? Dating Louis? Wait, is Harry fucking serious? Is Harry fucking Styles actually telling Louis that he is glad Louis wants it because he wants to date him!?

**Not opposed to… dating me? You want to date?**

Louis has to get up now, has to take a few laps around his bed to calm his fucking nerves.

_Yeah, I think I’d like that._

What!? Just what! What is going on! Is Harry fucking serious?! He wants to date Louis? He would like to date Louis? Louis’ phone beeps again and he scrambles to unlock it. God, why did he even lock it?!

_What’s your name by the way? I’m assuming ‘Tommo’ is a nickname?_

Harry doesn’t even know his name and what’s to date him. That’s it. Louis’ actually going to jump out the window.

**It is, my last name is Tomlinson. But, Louis. He replies shakily. Loo-ee, like the french way. But, you’re serious? You actually want to date me? Me?**

_Louis. It’s cute. Suits you. Yes, I actually want to date you. You seem nice and sweet and funny. Plus, you’re beautiful._

Okay, it’s only been like 10 minutes and Harry has already called Louis cute, lovely, gorgeous, and beautiful. He’s actually going to die.

**I’m sorry, isn’t this crazy ? Aren’t you going to get yelled at ! You’re famous ! A POPSTAR! and you’re talking to me and telling me you wanna date me !**

He sends it and quickly types out something else. **I mean, I want this, I want this so bad, but like, you don’t know me ! I could be a sociopath ! A murder ! A crazy stalker !**

_I’m fairly certain a sociopath/murder/or crazy stalker wouldn’t say these things, or warn against them, Louis._

Okay, Harry has a point probably. Louis’ certain a murderer wouldn’t say ‘HEY IM A MURDERER WATCH OUT!’.

_I’m not going to get in trouble though, I’m a big boy, I can do what I want._

Louis is a weak man. He’s a weak man and that’s why his cock twitches at that. He’s so weak. So pathetic. He needs something. Like, Jesus or Allah, or better yet, a smack to the face.

**And you want to date me?**

Harry responds with a row of smiley faces. _I want. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I already want to kiss you._

 

**I already know I wanna kiss you. Wanted that for years**. Louis responds without overthinking it. His heart is hammering so fast in his chest, his scared it’s going to beat right through his bone, muscle, and skin and flop onto the bed. He can’t believe this is real. His head is spinning. **This is not how I pictured this would go. Like, honestly. Never in a million years.**

_Good, I like being surprising._

Louis snorts. **You’re pretty cheeky, Styles. Dumb. But, cheeky**.

_HEY! but, (; when I try to be. Can I get your number then, Louis? Don’t feel like having to go on twitter whenever I want to talk to you._

Louis sends back his number and a moment later his phone buzzes with a text. He ignores it for a minute, taking more screenshots and sending them to Niall and Liam, all captioned with curses, whats?!??! and exclamations.

_Hello Louis Tomlinson, it’s me, Harry Styles._

Louis smiles at the stupid text and settles back against his bed. So much for going to bed early. He has a feeling he’ll be up all night.

\--

“You’re shit hole-ing me.” Liam says the next morning when Louis walks in the door. Or, afternoon. He had to open today and he did it on only an hour of sleep. Turns out he and Harry Styles can talk for hours without a problem or even a moment of awkward silent.  

“Mate.” Louis beams flopping down next to him on the couch. He feels like he should feel tired, but he’s exhilarated. Nothing make sense, it all seems like a dream. Louis is on cloud fucking 9. He texted Harry for 3 hours and then FaceTimed him for four. They actually talked for 7 hours straight. Louis got to see Harry’s fucking face on his fucking laptop. Louis made him laugh so hard he cried. Louis feels like he should get that tattooed on his body somewhere. Probably his dick. Maybe forehead.

“Harry bloody Styles!?” Liam asks.

“Harry bloody Styles.” 

“Harry bloody Styles DM’d you, asked for your number, and then you stayed up all night flirting with him?!”

“Oh, Liam. We flirted so fucking hard.”

“I can’t believe this.”

Louis wants to laugh because Liam can’t believe this? He can hardly believe this and he’s living it.

“Ha, wanna know something even crazier? He’s taking me on a date next Friday.”

“Louis!” Liam screeches. “How are you okay right now?!”

Louis shrugs and wanders to the kitchen, opening up Harry’s new text all the while. Liam doesn’t need to know that he hid in the supply closet and hyperventilated for 10 minutes after Harry asked him. Or that a customer was the one that found Louis, dragged him out, and forced him to breathe into a paper bag.

It’s whatever. Semantics or what not.

Louis’ fine. He can totally handle this.

\--

Louis thinks he’s a slag.

Like, a full on proper one.

Really, there’s no other explanation.

He’s on his knees on Harry’s hardwood kitchen floor, his mouth full of Harry’s cock, spit and precome dripping down his chin and it’s only been a few hours since he met Harry in person. Like, if that isn’t slaggy Louis doesn’t know what is.

But, the thing is, Louis doesn’t hate himself.

He doesn’t know how he got here, he swears only a few minutes ago he was panicking in his kitchen with Liam and Niall. Hell, he swears only a few seconds ago he was in the fancy restaurant with Harry, blushing as Harry complimented every stupid thing Louis hates about himself as a few of Harry’s fans watched on from behind a fern. (They thought they were being clever, but he and Harry spotted them the moment they walked in.)

But, he’s here. Here he is. In Harry’s kitchen. Sucking his dick. And he loves it. And himself.

He loves his slaggy self so, so much. Only a week ago he was reblogging pictures of Harry’s crotch wishing he could fucking just see his dick and now it’s in his actual mouth. It’s heavy and wet and on his tongue. His life is a fucking dream right now.

“Oh, fuck, Louis.” Harry whines, his hips shifting forward. The head of his cock knocks against the back of Louis’ throat and Louis can’t help but moan. Harry echoes him, hips bucking forward harder like he’s trying to chase the vibrations of Louis’ throat. Louis doesn’t blame him, he knows how good that feels. It’s how he’s taken apart many boys before and it’s how he wants to ruin Harry, turn him into a sobbing, beautiful mess. So, he does it again, and again, and again and soon Harry’s falling apart, one hand cradling Louis’ jaw, as the other yanks on Louis’ hair. He’s shouting, practically crying as he fucks into Louis’ mouth.

It’s delicious and Louis swears this is heaven. This right here is heaven.

“No, no. no.” Harry whines after Louis sucks particularly hard, tongue flicking into Harry’s slit. Harry’s hand tugs harder and Louis pulls himself off.

“Ow, Harry.” He whines. That one hurt. Yeah, sort of in a good way, but sort of too much, too.

“Sorry, sorry.” Harry whispers, fingers immediately soothing over Louis’ skull. “I just. I don’t wanna come like this.” 

Louis smirks, sneaking a hand inside his own trousers to give himself a nice squeeze. God, he’s a slag. He’s such a slag.

“Gonna fuck me, Harry?”

Such a fucking slag.

“Yeah.” Harry murmurs. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

Louis preens, nuzzling into Harry’s hip bone, using the moment to catch his breath. His head is spinning and he can’t believe he’s here. He’s actually here.

“Come on.” Harry says, wrapping a giant hand around his wrist and tugging him up. Louis goes easily, falling into Harry’s chest and pressing their lips together. He’s missed the feeling of Harry’s lips against his.

He lets himself get lost for a moment, tongue chasing Harry’s. He thinks his new favorite feeling is the inside of Harry’s mouth. He wants to etch it, draw a map of the ridges of his teeth and keep it in his head forever.

Harry whines restlessly against his mouth and Louis finds himself being dragged through the kitchen, down the hall, and into a bedroom.

He doesn’t get a chance to look around before he’s shoved back onto the giant bed, so he makes a mental note to take pictures (for Niall and Liam only, he’s not a fucking creepy) in the morning.

Harry flops down on top of him, straddling his hips and grabbing at his face and kissing him hard. Harry kisses like he’s dying and Louis’ mouth is his only hope, like it’s his cure.

Louis doesn’t hate it. But…

“Harry.” He groans, bucking his hips up, jostling Harry a bit. “I wanna be naked. Get naked.”

Harry pants a response against Louis’ lips, breath hot and damp. It should be gross, Louis should want to shove him away, but he wants the exact opposite. He wants Harry even closer, wants to bottle up his warm breath and keep it for the rest of his life.

Louis’ fucking addicted to this kid.

Harry sits up, pulling at his shirt and Louis does the same. He can’t wait to feel Harry’s bare skin against his. He pouts when Harry climbs off him to kick his jeans and pants from his ankles, kicking his feet against the firm mattress and telling him to ‘hurry the fuck up’.

Harry giggles when he climbs back onto the bed, crawling up Louis and dropping a kiss to his collar bone. Louis turns into a moaning mess when he trails downwards, stopping to give the utmost attention to his nipples.

Fuck, does Louis love his nipples being played with.

Harry’s mouth is sinful. Louis’ pants feel like a sodding pool and Harry’s only just gotten to his hips, tongue lapping at the skin, teeth nibbling at the bones.

“Please.” He moans. He’s trying his best not to buck up and hit Harry in the chin, but he’s only human.

“Harry.” He groans. He won’t beg again. He won’t. “Please. Please.”  

Louis’ a weak man. He’s trash.

Harry finally takes pity on him and unbuttons his jeans. He’s a fucking twat about taking them off, though, pulling them off slowing and kissing at each inch of newly exposed skin. Louis’ going to kill him, probably.

“I hate you.” Louis whines when Harry mouths at this cock through his pants, getting the material even wetter. It’s actually absurd. Harry Styles is absurd.

“No, you don’t, darling.” Harry laughs. He leans further down, spreading Louis’ thighs and nosing at his balls.

Louis chokes and grabs at his hair, holding him in place and grinding up. Harry moans and Louis can’t help but laugh, proud that he finally has the upper hand.

It doesn’t last long though, Harry pulls away, curling his finger into the waistband of Louis’ pants and yanking them down.

Louis gasps when the cold air hits his bare cock. He’s wet and sensitive and oh my god, Louis can’t believe his life right now.

Harry grips the base of his cock and leans in, lapping at the head before pulling away, whispering to Louis that he ‘just wanted a quick taste.’ Louis isn’t sure how he’s still breathing.

He closes his eyes for a minute, trying to just ground himself and even his heartrate out. He feels Harry lean over him and then hears him rummage around in the bedside table. He gives up all hope to calm himself down after that.

Louis snorts when he sees the bottle in Harry’s hand. It’s cherry flavored and just of fucking course Harry Styles is the type to have cherry flavored lube. He goes to laugh, to make fun of Harry, call him a fucking dorky little popstar, but then Harry’s opening the lube and drizzling it on his long finger and Louis’ suddenly assaulted with the sweetest cherry scent and he loses all the abilities, mouth dropping open in a noiseless gasp as Harry presses against his hole.

Louis’ imagined this a plethora of times. He’s imagined Harry hovering over him, pressing hot, opened mouth kisses to his neck. He’s imagined Harry pinching at his nipples and sucking bruises into his chest. He’s imagined Harry’s fingers. He’s imagined Harry pressing them into him, spreading him open, getting him nice and ready for his cock. He’s imagined it so many times, but his imagination is complete shit to the real thing. His imagination didn’t do Harry like, any justice.

Harry’s fingers feel better than Louis has ever dreamed, ever fucking conjured up. They are just so long. They aren’t as thick as Louis’, but they are still a good width and they are fucking long. They are long and they are stretching Louis open and Louis honestly isn’t sure if he will ever be able to breathe normally again.

Louis feels slick and open and everything burns but in the best fucking way.

“I’m ready.” He hears himself moan, in between his litany of ‘fucks’ and ‘yeses’.

“Yeah, babe?” Harry breathes. “You ready to take me? You want my cock?”

Louis lets out a high pitched, breathy, needy “yes.” It’s almost embarrassing, hearing his voice like that, but then he remembers it’s Harry fucking Styles he’s about to get dicked by. Everyone would be a mess. He takes comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t be alone. Hypothetically. Really, he wants to be alone if he thinks about it. He wants to be the only one to ever see Harry like this, the only one Harry ever makes feel like this again. He wants to be completely Harry’s and wants Harry to be completely his.

“Louis?” He hears. He shakes his head and forces himself to look back at Harry. Wow, he can’t believe he let himself get distracted right now, of all fucking moments.

“Fuck me.” He pleads out. He knows what he must look like right now, flushed and sweaty, sticky with lube and his own precome, begging for Harry’s dick, but he doesn’t care. He can’t believe he’s here.

Harry smirks, leaning down to kiss Louis as he slides the condom on. Louis grabs the lube, pouring some on his hand and then reaching down to coat Harry’s dick.

Harry at Louis’ lip as he bucks into his hand, chasing the friction. Louis tuts, pulling his hand away and spreading his thighs.

“Fuck me.” He whispers. “Come on, Styles, show me what you’re made of.”

Harry grins down at him, biting at his nose before leaning back to line himself up and slide into Louis.

For all Louis’ imagination, nothing could’ve prepared him for this, either. He means it, absolutely nothing.

Harry’s so thick and warm, so fucking solid as he slides into Louis so slowly it punches the air out of his lungs. Louis’ gasping by the time Harry’s balls deep, hands scrambling for purchase in the fluffy cream colored duvet.

“You okay?” Harry huffs. His chest is flaming, nipples hard and at attention. Louis nods, unable to find any words. He wraps his legs around Harry’s hips and pulls him closer. The action causes Harry to slide deeper and Louis sees stars. He whines, his voice hitting a register he didn’t even know it could and nods his head.

“Give it to me, come on.” He grinds his hips back and Harry smiles down at him. It’s disgusting, pretty much revolting.

Louis takes fifteen mental snapshots.

Harry’s the most enthusiastic fuck Louis’ ever had. He’s loud and energetic. He gives so much, puts so much fucking effort in. It’s like he’s putting on a show. It’s amazing.

He pounds into Louis relentlessly, gripping hard at Louis’ hips, leaving countless bruises. He’s a bloody tease, too. He’ll go so hard one minute, but then once he sees how much Louis is loving it, how much he’s getting off, how close he is, he’ll slow down. His hips will stop pistoning and his fingers will easy up. He’ll thrust gently then, lean down and whisper against Louis’ neck, tell him how beautiful and gorgeous he looks.

It’s maddening. Louis can’t wrap his head around it. It’s so good he wants to cry. He actually might cry. He wants to come so fucking bad and Harry isn’t touching him.

“Please.” Louis groans, fucking his hips back against Harry’s. Harry bites at his neck, trails his hand down Louis’ side and over his hips, his fingers teasing at the hairs at the base of Louis’ dick.

“Harry, please.” Louis cries. “Please, touch me, please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg, Lou.” Harry mouths at his neck and Louis feels tears form. He’s just so hard. He’s so hard and he’s so wet. He’s been leaking for what feels like hours. He just wants to come.

Louis can’t get any words out, just whines again, scraping his nails down Harry’s back and digging his heel into his arse. Maybe if Harry stays deep and rubbing on Louis’ prostate he can come untouched.

It’s wishful thinking, Louis knows. Plus, he really wants to feel Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock again.

“Harry.” He cries again. He feels tears slip down his cheek and Harry’s thumb brushing them away before he murmurs, “so good, baby” against his lips and finally, finally wraps a big, beautiful hand around him.

Louis comes not even a second later, his orgasm hitting him like a train.

It seems to startle Harry, because his hand stills for a moment before he picks up the pace again, working Louis through it.

He shoves Harry’s hand away as he starts to get over sensitive. Harry thrusts into him once more before he pulls out, ripping the condom off and pumping himself.

“Can I come on you?”

“Yes, please. Fuck, please.” Louis’ never wanted anything more in his life. Like, seriously.

Harry’s beautiful when he comes. Well, he’s beautiful all the time, but he is exceptionally pretty when he comes, adding to the mess already on Louis’ chest and tummy. He’s lips are red and raw from biting at them and his skin is the prettiest pink. His eyes are somehow even greener and brighter and Louis swears he’s in love.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, flopping down next to Louis once he finishes, turning to tuck his face in Louis’ neck. Louis giggles at him, turning his face to place a quick little kiss on his stupid penis nose.

“Wow.” He whispers, glancing down at the pools of come on his stomach. It’s gross, but also beautiful. He wants to send a picture to Niall and Liam, but he knows if the did that, there would be a good chance they would never speak to him again.

Harry laughs. “I concur.”

Louis rolls his eyes and drags a finger through the come on his stomach. He doesn’t think twice, just brings it to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“No.” Harry grumbles into his neck. “You can’t do that to me. That’s too hot. My dick can’t handle this yet. I need to recover.”

Louis shoves at Harry’s shoulder, getting him to flop on his back so he can climb on top of him and straddle his hips. “Yeah, well, recover faster. I want to ride you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Louis Tomlinson. I just know it.”

“And to think, you didn’t even know me a week ago.”

“Tragic, really.” Harry smiles. Louis can’t help but grin back before leaning down to kiss him silly.

\--

“So, Harry. I’ve heard through the grapevine that there is someone new in your life. Can you confirm or deny? Is this true?”

Harry grins, dimple dimpling hard as he shrugs his shoulder and laughs a cheeky “mayyyybeee” before shooting the camera a wink.

Louis rolls his eye and reblogs the gif set, tagging it with ‘what a stupid fuck, can’t wait to suck his dick later tho (; (;’.

His boyfriend is the lamest.

**Author's Note:**

> MORE THINGS FROM SECOND ROW!
> 
> Harry blew kisses at us for our sign (you made us best friends), Harry wagged his finger and said 'no, no' at our other one (I'd get down on my knees for YOU), Liam sang clouds at Lizzie!!!!, he pointed, winked, and waved at our sign, AND he read Monica's sign out loud (Niall will you please pay for my medical school)!!!! OVERALL, IT WAS THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE AND IM GETTING THE DATE TATTOOED ON ME. 100% SERIOUS. OKAY, BYE. 
> 
> thank you for reading! if you want to talk about one direction with me/ freak out, my tumblr is under the same name! xx


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